It Finally Got Easier
by FluffyOverlord
Summary: Despite what people believe, killing didn’t come easily to Sylar at first, every life he took also took a piece of himself with it. However as time and time again he killed, it suddenly became easier and all semblance of remorse vanished. M for violence.


_Wow, so I wrote this short story quite a long time ago. During the first season of Heroes in fact. Sadly I stopped watching halfway through season 2 so if Sylar's past where he began killing was ever mentioned I have no idea. loll I just really loved this story as it was one of my first fan fic endeavors outside my usual HPness. It's a bit darker than I normally write but I hope you enjoy!_  
_~Fluffy_

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"**THE HARD PART"**

Gabriel felt his heart race inside his chest, his stomach was knotted and he felt the sweat roll from his forehead down into his eyes. He wiped across his face with his sleeve as he ran, not getting the chance to see the steel rod jutting out a few feet in front of him. He felt his leg connect painfully with the rod as he toppled over it and fell to the ground roughly on his stomach. The breath was knocked out of him and he gasped raggedly until he could suck in the cold night air. He breathed so deeply it caused him to cough and he sat on the ground coughing and trying to remain breathing until he could stand up.

Standing carefully he whipped his head back around to see if he had lost her, she was a good distance ahead of him but with her damaged ankle she hadn't been able to get too far. Gabriel turned and ran after her catching her in a matter of moments, why did it seem like catching her before had been so hard? He pressed the last question away and reached out pushing the girl forcibly into the wall behind her. She screamed but Gabriel silenced her by pressing his hand against her throat, he took a deep steadying breath, bringing his hand up to level with the girl's head. Hecould see the fear in her eyes and he hesitant; he could see clearly how frightened and panicked she was at merely the sight of his hand. Had he really become such a monster that the movement of his extremities caused people to be thrown into panic?

His hand dropped some and the girl seemed to lose some of the fear he had seen in her eyes, he dropped his hand the rest of the way and then released the girl from his grip. She fell to the ground, gave him one last look, then began to run as fast as she could with her injured ankle. Gabriel stood staring after her, he could stop if he really wanted to, he could stop killing, he had let her go, and didn't that mean he could control himself, control the urge to murder? Then again was it already too late? He had already killed so many people, ruined so many lives, if he stopped now there was nowhere for him to go, there was nothing for him to do.

How could he just go back to being, Gabriel Gray the watch repairmen, now after everything, it would never be enough, he'd always want more. He'd always know he could have become something more, something greater than just a passing face, then just another normal person, he could be a god. Gabriel looked up and saw the woman rounding the corner, he made up his mind and ran after her, the knot in his stomach was still there, the guilt he felt still lingered as well but he had no more arguments left, no more reasons to stop. He turned the corner and she must have heard his footsteps because she turned around and saw him, she cried out and ran faster accidentally putting pressure on her ankle and causing her to flail to the ground. Gabriel was upon her in seconds; he spun her onto her back and pressed his knee down on her chest so she couldn't get up.

"Please, please don't kill me!" she cried in a cracked voice. Once again Gabriel tensed up, the pain in her voice pulling at the guilt inside him. Why couldn't it be easier, why had it yet to be easier? He brought his hand up to her face and shook his head swallowing down the guilt and pushing past the knots in stomach as he pointed out his finger. Every scream she gave in agony as he sliced across her forehead was more than enough to cause him to feel sick but he kept cutting until the screaming stopped. Gabriel looked down into her lifeless eyes and felt himself going numb, every life he took always made him feel empty and less complete, he figured it was the pieces of humanity inside him dying away.

He was sure it would have gotten easier by now but it seemed to always get harder, every life was harder and harder to take. Gabriel looked down once more at the dead woman underneath him and was surprised to feel a smirk slide onto his face, an actual smirk not a frown or pained expression. Had it begun?

"**WHEN IT GOT EASIER"**

Sylar snickered evilly as he looked at the little girl he had pressed against the wall in her own bedroom, his hand was firmly gripped against her throat. She gasped for air as he kept her parents hanging from the ceiling with his mind. They looked down at him then at her, he could practically hear them shouting at him to let their daughter go. He smirked and let them watch as he sliced through their daughter's forehead, he could feel them tug against his restraint but they could barely move an inch against him. The little girl slumped to the ground in a heap and Sylar dropped her parents from the roof, they smacked into the ground and Sylar turned to them.  
The husband stood up and ran at Sylar cursing a string of unintelligible threats at him as he went.

Sylar picked up four of the pencils in a cup on the girl's desk with his mind then sent them at full speed into the man's arms, pinning him back against the wall as he cried out in pain. The wife screamed and ran to her husband trying to pull the pencils from his arms, Sylar watched as she did. Every little attempt she made to pull out the pencil caused the husband to cry in pain and Sylar could feel her anguish. It wasn't all that long ago, a week maybe two, that he had killed that woman in the alley, the woman he had almost let escape.

Not that long ago he felt pity and guilt over what he was doing it was that woman who had given him the gift of empathy, the ability to read other people's emotions, even change them if he wanted to. Everything he had felt pity, guilt, fear, pain, all of them were increased but by then he no longer cared, by then it had gotten easier to not care about what he was doing. He raised his hand and began to slice through the wife's forehead while the husband pushed against the pencils to try and save her but it only made him cry out even louder in agony. She fell to the ground as well and Sylar walked forward, his feet sticking to the blood pooling the floor as he did, the husband turned to look at him and he looked angry and ready to kill Sylar despite his predicament.

"You son-of-a-bi-" The husband began but Sylar twisted the pencils in the man's arms and he gasped in pain as tears streaked down his cheeks.

"Why are you still fighting, you've lost everything your wife, your daughter, what is there left to fight for?" Sylar asked in a calm placid voice.

"I…..know who...you…..are," the man said, taking breaks in his speech as he caught his breath. "You're Sylar….that psychotic killer….I'm fighting because if I get even the slightest chance…..I will kill you without hesitating."

Sylar chuckled and stopped twisting the pencils as he looked up at the husband.

"I'm afraid to have to tell you that you won't get that chance," Sylar said, pulling a pencil painfully from the man's arm.

"At least….I would have….t...tried," the man gasped.

Sylar smirked then raised his finger to the man's forehead and unlike many of the people Sylar killed, this man looked at him not with fear or apprehension but with determination, he wasn't ready to die but Sylar could feel that he wasn't afraid. It was almost like he knew what the others hadn't, that he knew he wasn't going to escape and as such he knew fighting or showing that he was scared would only make the kill that much sweeter for Sylar. For a moment Sylar considered letting him go, not because he wasn't scared but because by letting him live this man would have to go on for the rest of his life without his family. He would walk the world alone, tortured knowing he was there when they died and wasn't able to stop their murderer, it was the worst form of pain that Sylar could inflict….guilt. Guilt had been the one thing that had tortured him for so long as he began his killing streak and he knew this man would harbor guilt longer than Sylar ever could have.

He considered it seriously as he stood there hand poised ready to kill this man but Sylar knew letting this man go would make people think that he showed mercy and Sylar _never_ showed mercy. The man had to die and Sylar couldn't wait to kill him to cut through his skin, watch the thick blood flow down his face as it dripped to the ground. Sylar no longer felt guilt over killing innocent people. Now he felt pleasure, happiness, it was entertaining to watch them scream and try to escape, it was funny to see the fear in their eyes and all in all watching as he drained their life from them was nothing short of fun.


End file.
